VIDEO 21mgs

Like all good road trips, we pulled the posse together at 10pm on Thursday night and hit the road. Never mind that Stainer sort of arranged to have two days off work. As for Slicer, he just left a message, “Hey Jim. Gone to Baker. Hope you don’t need me.”

We finally found the border Sth of Vancouver and tried not to act like the skids that we are. We must have looked innocent enough though because they let us into the USA and not really knowing where we were headed, we followed our noses until we found the signs to Mt Baker. Cruising along flat, dry roads as we neared Glacier, we wondered where they kept the copious amounts of snow and gnarly terrain we had come for.






Glacier is the lone hamlet at the base of the mountain before you climb up through the wet, old growth forest to the ski hill. It is populated by not many and consists of tourist accommodations, a ski/snowboard shop, a pasta restaurant and Grahams Pub.

By 3am we still hadn’t started climbing in altitude so we figured it would be warmer sleeping lower down and driving up in the morning. We found a pull out, parked the truck, shoveled the snow we imported from Whistler out of the back and lay our weary heads down.

The sound of the locals and every other man and his dog woke us the next morning as they tore past us, the gas pedal flat to the floor, on their way to go skiing. We organised ourselves and joined the procession up the hill, eager to finally witness Mt Baker.

Stainer was the only one of we three that had been there before and claimed to know enough to fill 2 days of skiing.
“All you need to know is Chair 8 and Chair 6,” he claimed.
Slicer and I weren’t about to argue, especially since we didn’t even know which highway to take to get there.






As we pulled into the parking lot, everything made sense. Mt Shuksan dominates with jagged rock spires, huge hanging glaciers that give way to open powder fields which melt into the trees that bring you back to the parking lot. The inbounds terrain is incredible, but the extent of backcountry terrain, only minutes outside the boundary is perhaps what Mt Baker is most famous for. Chair 8 takes you to the Shuksan Arm, which is only a 10min boot pack to long, open alpine runs that bring you back to the lift. Go right at the top and heli-ski style pitches of powder drop you into the heart of the ski area where you can hitch a ride straight back up on the chair.

The bluebird sky that greeted us on our arrival soon faded and left us with flat light and poor visibility. Speaking to Patrol, they advised great caution in the backcountry with significant weak layers yielding easy results. It might still be a costal snow pack where things do tend to stick, but such large amounts of snow are perhaps even more cause for concern.

We ventured out the Arm and tentatively picked some lines that would be safe, yet still retaining good snow. We ended up skiing Chair 8 the entire day and never hiked more than 300m from the lift. As the day wore on, the skiing only got better, and our grins bigger.






In theory, both Stainer and Slicer needed to be at work the next day, but with conditions being so good and we hadn’t even been over to check out Table Mtn, it was a no-brainer that we were staying.

Since we had made it across the border and skied pow all day, we were pretty stoked on how the trip had began. Not really sure where to stay and less keen on sleeping in the ditch again, we decided to park ourselves in the bar and be chatty with the locals. After all it was Friday and almost New Years. We figured if there was ever going to be a party in Glacier, tonight was a pretty good bet.






We hunkered down at a table near the fire in Grahams and polished of ribs, burgers and Stainer’s salad. It was only then that we realized that the pitcher we had just bought only cost us $6. Not 6 each, but 6 in total. That was the beginning of the end. It was only 6.30 and the band began at 9. That wasn’t too long to wait for things to pick up so we shot some pool and mingled with whoever was around from wherever.

At 9 things started to go crazy. The band began rocking out with “Jimmi Made Steak from the Milk Cow” and all of a sudden, glacier was pumping. Young people, old people, iron-chested-spoon-playing women and jiggy-arm-dancing men started popping out of the woodwork and we had a serious party on our hands. The table we were sitting at was whisked out from under our beers and stacked outside to make room for a dance floor leaving us no other option but to cut some rug; an old, red, beer stained, Persian rug for that matter.






By the time the $6 jug beer tab had hit $50, it was barely midnight so we shifted into overdrive and just went with it. Some local boys, Alex and Gavin, were feeding us shots of Saatchi and arguing with some people from Vancouver who we had met as to whose place we were going to sleep at when all was said and done.

Figuring we might not be able to keep up with the locals and still stand, let alone ski the next day, we opted for beds in the cabin. Since their friends hadn’t shown up yet, they probably weren’t coming and we were free to enjoy a bed for the few hours before we swapped our blue suede shoes for soggy, ski boots.

Our hosts managed to persuade some girls from some other place to come home so they hit the hot tub and we hit the hay. Unbeknownst to us though, a few hours later, the original guests finally showed up with puzzled looks on their faces as to who the complete randoms were in their beds. They settled for the couch in the end.

The next morning, we peeled ourselves out of bed, bitterly hung over and more fatigued from dancing than the previous days skiing. We pulled the covers up in a feeble attempt to make the beds before stepping into the dank, moist coastal air outside. Somewhat revived by the fresh air we, headed it for the Lodge and some breakfast cooked by a guy with gnarlier tattoos than the cliff band below Chair 5.






We picked off some long, untracked, blower lines even closer to the lift to help settle the stomach and then decided to go check out Table Mtn. And this is what Baker is all about. From the top of Chair 6, you just look around, pick something you like and go ski it. We were a little doubtful that we might hit the rights zones with only 2 days and no local knowledge, but we got it good.

It’s amazing how good the access is, and if you are avalanche aware and have visibility, you are set. A short boot pack or skin gets you to the base of Table Mtn proper where awesome lines exists. From the top of Table Mtn, you are now in Mini Alaska as some people put it. Steep spines, chutes, faces- you name it, it’s there. Across the valley there is more bowls, cliffs, trees and good old fashioned pow.

We closed out our day with more fresh turns in the alpine glow and headed it for the parking lot to pack ourselves up and tried look respectable enough to cross the border again.






It was a road trip in the truest sense. It was spontaneous, fast, deep, involved a crazy party and locals, new terrain and good friends. It is a tried and tested recipe, but only so often does it come together where all those involved are just super stoked on every aspect of the experience. We certainly were and can’t wait to go back to Mt Baker.